Her Beginning
by Sekai
Summary: What if her story began like this? What if she had been locked away in an orphanage just like Riddle? But what if magic saved her like it failed to save him?


I'm lying here in my bed, rejoicing in its warmth and comfort. But then I hear what I had hoped I'd never have to endure hearing again. Heavy footsteps in the stairs.

For the past six months those feet have been climbing stairs almost every night. And I always knew where they travelled. Tonight I don't, or I hope I don't. And it scares me more than I thought it would.

The feet belong to Sam Thompson. He and his wife Mary own this orphanage, and every single girl in this house depends on them, including my sister and myself.

Last week one of the girls here was adopted, her name was Artisha and she was thirteen. Once she had been innocent and carefree, but someone broke her. I hope she now finds peace, and perhaps she's now with someone who can heal her wounds.

She spoke to me before she left. She intended to warn me. She said he would be coming for me next. I asked why, and she gazed at me with a tiny smile that said so much. You're still so young, it said. And I read it. _Because you're pretty_, she had whispered. It sounded so strange in my ears then, because I had always looked upon her as the symbol of young beauty, and she was a striking opposite to me. But now, just a week later, I understand the meaning of her words. _I know you can fight him_, she had whispered in my ear, _I know you are strong_. _You are stronger than I ever were, you are stronger then I'll ever be._ And with a smile of encouraging and hope she left me, and I saw her eyes had aged far beyond her thirteen years.

And now I don't want to know. But I do, and his feet will pause at my door tonight, and his eyes will seek out mine, and his breath will sweep against my bare skin.

He has mounted the stairs now. He is walking. And as he passes the door that used to be Artishas, I realise that this everything but a bad dream - and I know that I shouldn't have been waiting to find out. But my door is just next to Artishas and he is here.

Pausing by my door, his hand on the handle. Slowly, a crack of light appears. My eyes, still adjusted to the darkness of my bedroom, see only a shadow in by the door. But I know that it's more than a shadow, is very much solid. And he invades my room with his mere presence.

Trough the darkness I can only imagine the look on his face. How his eyes ravish me while his hand travel trough the salt and pepper of his hair. He knows how to silence a young girl. He knows that our highest wish is a parent; he is the one who provides that, we know, and he knows how to use it to his advantage.

I remember how it all happened with Artisha. I was the sole witness, as much as a witness bears, having hearing it involuntarily trough the wall. She did object, I could hear it. But he is strong, much to strong. And soon protest faded into heart-wrenching weeping. He took what was not for him to take, and her body was invaded.

His weight at the foot of my bed rips me from my rambling thoughts. His hand is on my thigh. Using the element of surprise, all I have left to my advantage I fling myself out of the bed and flatten towards the tall closet at the opposite wall. Inside he is fuming, I know, but he always knew how to hide his true feelings. Still some of his patience and control remains. Hidden by the darkness my hands rummage wildly against the wall and the closet, finding nothing of use.

Slowly, like an animal of the wild eying his prey, he makes his way towards me. Fumbling wildly my hands soon make contact with the handle of a baseball-bat - and as his hands make to grasp my shoulders I wrench forwards striking the bat at his head. A loud bang as the wood makes contact with his skull and a following thump confirms the effect of my strike.

My chest heaves with the aftermath of fear, as I carefully step over him to collect some items from the closet. Only what is necessary, only what I care to bring, stuffing it hastily into a shoulder bag, before I exit the room, with only one last glance at the man unconscious on the floor.

Ignoring my natural instincts I turn away from the stairs and move further down the hall. Carefully I open the door to my sister's bedroom. I open it, but I do not enter. My twin looks at me with her knowing, still innocent glance.

"You're leaving." She says matter-of-factly. I nod. Y_es_.

"I'll come back for you." I whisper. She smiles, something that makes her big eyes sparkle, and she waves me goodbye.

As I turn to the stairs again I realise my mistake. Mr. Thompson is standing in the hall between me and my way out. Slowly I make my way towards him something that gives me time to notice and considerate the look of victory etched in his features.

His arms reach out for me, but in the last second I do what he did not expect. I dart up the second set of stairs. I sprint up all the stairs feeling neither free nor trapped. His anger seems to have gotten hold of him as I can hear his angered calls all the way up. But he silence quickly and I desperately realise he will come after me.

My heart is pumping wildly in my chest and my breath is ragged both from fear and exhaustion. I bolt towards the door leading to the flat roof, knowing of a fire escape that could bring me to safety. I twirl the key in the lock and push the door open. Wind hits my face, slamming my hair backwards. And the full moon twinkles at me like an exceptionally huge star.

I have only taken a few steps when I hear him behind of me again. Slowly I turn around to face him, the ladder I hoped to reach out of sight, and soon out of mind. I have never seen him so furious and his anger frightens me - makes me step backwards. But soon my options are limited; something bangs against the back of my foot. He has forced me against the low wall encircling the roof.

Taking a quick peek over the edge I feel my stomach flip over. It's a long way down. But he is closing in on me with a look of triumph in his eyes. I can feel fear enlarge my own pair and my heart feels like it's close to pumping its way straight out of my flat chest. Without thinking twice I toss myself off of the roof.

And it suddenly feels as if I'm in slow motion, but soon - too soon - the ground hurtles towards me and I scream.

But as I'm sure I'll hit the ground something catches around my waist, something I vaguely recognise as a pair of arms. But my gaze still lingers on the ground. It's no longer looming closer, but sweeping by peacefully.

And I realise that I must be flying!

---

_ A/N: I wrote this a while ago, and I don't think I'll be finishing it anytime soon. I'm guessing that it's not too understandable - unless you've managed to look inside my head. But it was the beginning of something once. It just hasn't been going anywhere._


End file.
